Saga of the Orange Boat
by Rat
Summary: Jack&Ana fic. COMPLETE! Chapter 13 is up, Jacks POV. Jack’s plans go awry and Ana gets MAD.
1. But why is it Orange?

**_A Moment_**

"That one."

"What one?"  Jack squinted out over the dock and tried to see whatever he should be seeing. 

Ana rolled her eyes.  "The one to the right.  With the paint on it."

He squinted again.  "Really?  That one?"  Jack cleared his throat and tried to think of something nice to say, and finding nothing nice, opted for vague.  "It's an interesting boat."  

"It's our boat."  She added.  "And we deserve it."  

Briefly, he wondered what heinous thing he might have done lately to deserve such a … remarkable boat.  "So, what do we do with it?"

Ana took hold of his hand and roughly pulled him down to the dock.  

"How long will we be…?"

"It's a vacation Jack, not purgatory."  She deftly hopped onto her new boat and waited for Jack to follow.  "Are you coming or not?"

He considered the not.  This boat looked like something out of a child's nightmare, maybe even his own.  Gingerly, he took a big step and placed on foot on the plank to test the durability of the wood.  This didn't sit too well with Ana who ended the charade by simply yanking him over the rest of the way.  They fell in a heap that sent the little boat rocking violently.  Being trapped on his back with Ana on top of him improved Jack's view of the boat insurmountably, though Ana eventually rolled to the side and ruined the moment.  

"But why is it orange?"

She grinned.  "You don't like orange?"

"But why is it orange?  The first real ship we come across will use us as target practice."

She continued to grin.  "That's right, they'll see us coming from miles away."  

"You want to get shot on?"

"No."  She patted the brightly coloured planks.  "I want to relax, and you are going to relax with me.  There is no ship in the Caribbean who's going to come anywhere near boarding distance of our little boat.  There's going to be nothing to distract us Jack, no ships to pillage, no islands to explore.  Just you and me.  Alone."  

"We are together on the Pearl all the time."

"Alone."

"Oh."  The idea started to warm up to him.  It wasn't such a bad boat, if you were blind.  There was enough of a deck to walk around or lay about, and the little housey area below deck was plenty big for any below deck activities they cared to participate in.  A nice vacation indeed.  


	2. What's a little orange boat to do?

**_Chapter Two_**

"You can either agree with me or be wrong."

Ana stared at her Captain incredulously.  In the past hour, neither of them made the effort to so much as grunt, let alone argue about anything.  In fact, Jack looked a little surprised at having said the words out loud too.  His eyes shifted in her direction and she knew he was trying to think up some way to explain his sudden outburst.  

"You weren't even talking to me were you?"  Ana propped herself up on one elbow to face him.  "Who were you talking with?"

"No so much with as at."  He responded carefully, and then offered a tentative grin.  "Not like the boat is going to be answering me back anytime soon, right luv?"

"Right."  But the possibility didn't look quite so impossible, not when you considered who the boat would be talking to.  

Once Jack could ascertain he wouldn't be made fun of for the confession, he shrugged and decided to throw caution to the wind.  "And what would a little boat like this have to say in any case?  She's probably too embarrassed to utter a word with herself painted orange the way she is."  

"And if she did, she'd be begging to be repainted, is that it?"

"Exactly."  

The comfortable silence returned for a while only to be broken this time by Ana Maria.  

"Oh really?  Is that so?"  She said unexpectedly.  

This made it Jack's turn to look quizzically towards Ana Maria.  "And what kind of conversation are you havin, luv?"

The female pirate remained reclined on the deck.  "It's private."

"If it were private, it wouldn't have been spoken out loud."  

"Perhaps you shouldn't be eavesdropping."  

"You will tell me."  He threatened menacingly, leaning closer as he spoke.

"And what makes you think that?"

"Is that a challenge?"  The distance between them grew even smaller.  "No one challenges Captain Jack Sparrow and gets away with it."

"I just did."  

He ran a finger gently along her lips.  "Fighting words, luv."  

"Right here on the deck.  We can add it to the list of things we never do on the Pearl."  

Once more, he had to agree, there were advantages to this little orange boat of hers.  

_Next… return of the voodoo witch and more talk about hats. _


	3. Misplaced

I'm back!  So is someone else….  And she's waiting in Tortuga! 

****

**Chapter three, Misplaced Pirate**

****

The first five days of vacation passed swiftly.  Relaxing does not come naturally to pirates, and it took some hard work to accomplish such a feat.  There were many very pleasurable ways to pass the time on deck and below.    

However, for the pirates, the lack of action started to wear thin.  More often than not, Jack could talk up a storm no matter what the company.  However, that talk consisted of mostly nonsense thought up to confuse and sidetrack the listener.  On this so-called vacation thingy, Jack found that he lacked the necessity for such distractions, and he certainly wasn't going to resort to becoming all deep and philosophical just to create conversation.

After five days at sea and nothing at all to interrupt their special time together, both of them were in dire need of a little distraction and fortunately, Tortuga rested very close to the waters they sailed.  Evening fell as they came upon the harbour, and as the little orange boat neared the docks, the many torches and lanterns offered their light to guide the way.  

There are times when the night is a living creature.  You can taste it's sweet breath on the wind, feel the rise and fall of every heart beat in the swell of the wave, and you can hear the pounding of its anticipation in every move you make.  There is nothing between you and the stars lighting the sky with their thousand points of light.  Nothing.  The night is like that; it shows you how close you can come to possessing your dream, but you will never, ever, hold it in your hands.  

Ana didn't look up at the sky; she looked into the distance and stared at the flickering lights of the harbour.  There were stories her mother told her as a child that she still kept close to her heart.  They were stories of honour and bravery; stories meant to scare.  On those nights so long ago as she lay beside the soft warm bodies of her parents and siblings, she envisioned one day being a brave and honourable warrior just like the characters in those stories.  It didn't matter to her that all stories did not end well, because the ending meant little compared to how you got there.  

When the hero dies, do you cry because of how he died, or because of how he lived his life?  

Life mattered.  The hundreds of lives in the harbour of dancing lights mattered, and yet she could still feel no remorse for the many lives taken on Grangers ship.  

No words were spoken, but she felt the warmth coming off Jack's body when he stepped up behind her.  "Do you think they can see us?"  She asked him.

"That would depend on who's looking.  Do we want to be seen?"  

She didn't turn to him.  "I don't."  

He laughed softly.  "Maybe there is someone sitting on the dock staring out over the sea and thinking the same thing."  Now he wrapped his arms around her and brought his mouth so close to her neck that she could feel the heat of his lips.  

As much as she tried not to let him affect her, she couldn't help but lean into him.  "Are ye sure your up to this Jack?"

He pressed his body even closer to hers and whispered into her neck.  "You need to ask?"

That comment only resulted in a well deserved punch in the arm.  "You know what I mean."

He did know, and didn't appreciate the reminder in the middle of what could have been a very enjoyable interlude.  "What I have in mind is not affected at all by recent unfortunate circumstance."

"You almost died, and you're yet recovering.  I'd call that a little more than an unfortunate circumstance."  

"The fact I lived has to count for something."  

"I don't know if Tortuga's the best place to visit when you've yet to get all your strength back.  And there's the fact we're supposed to be on vacation and relaxing."  

"Tortuga is perfect for both relaxing and vacationing."  

"This isn't funny Jack."

"And I didn't intend it to be."  He answered.  "We could wait and dock in the morning instead?  I can think of several relaxing and vacationing things to do between now and then."  

Ana melted.  Morning would come too soon.  

After threatening the life of an old drunk with the audacity to laugh at and mock the poor helpless eye sore they arrived in, Jack and Ana considered their options.  

Jack watched Ana eye the surrounding infestation of human enthusiasm suspiciously as several women turned an interested eye towards him.  This was just yet another oddity popping up in Ana Maria lately, and Jack wondered how much longer it would go on.  It seemed that everywhere they'd go, Ana took on the unnecessary role of bodyguard.  "I will go my way, and I will meet you later?"  He suggested, knowing they both needed a good dose of time apart.

"Shouldn't we stick together?"

He smiled and took a patient breathe before answering.  "Sounds like a fine plan, but I haven't decided where I'm going to be, if I don't know where I'm going to be, there is little likelihood of us sticking together." 

"Let me guess."  She paused for a few moments of mock contemplation.  "The Faithful Bride?"

"It's an option."

"You'll be okay on your own?"  

He raised his eyebrows and gave her a grin.  "This is Tortuga, luv!  What kind of trouble could I possibly run into here?"  He kissed her briefly on the cheek and then took several backward steps, slowly inching his way towards brief freedom.  "Tomorrow morning, we meet back at the atrocity?"  The "Atrocity" being his new pet name for the horrid orange boat.

Ana nodded slowly, and allowed him to leave on his own.  

Jack considered his options, and as expected made his way to the Faithful Bride.  

The life and breath of Tortuga lies in the rotting and fragrantly repulsive timbers that form the shell of the Faithful Bride tavern.  Jack stood outside contemplating the light shining through the cracks of the boarded up windows, and took a deep breath of pungent air.  It felt good to be back after the run of bad luck hounding him through the past few months.  He endured being poisoned by a port of crazy addicts, nearly drowning, and then running into his old friend Granger; all that bad luck in such a short span of time could drive any man over the edge.  If that were the case, Jack felt happy that stepping over his own ledge meant falling into the Faithful Bride.  

Three drunken old men stumbled out into the alley, making Jack quickly sidestep to avoid being knocked over by any of them.  The time for deep thoughts ended abruptly, and he knew that if he worked at it hard enough, he could be as fortunate as those drunken old men and end the night in exactly the same state of being.  

Walking inside brought back old times.  Not all those old times were good times of course, he didn't have the Pearl in those 'good' times, and without a doubt, these present times were better times.  Still, it didn't hurt to pay a visit to those 'good' ol' days now and then.   

**

In the early dawn light, Ana Maria surveyed the miserable remains of the previous nights over indulgence.  Not finding Jack waiting at the boat wasn't much of a surprise.  After a night of festivity, he often took somewhat longer to meander his way back to where he ought to be.  Bodies littered the streets, sleeping in the doorways of buildings, alleys, and a few lay in the middle of the road where they presumably fell sometime in the night.  The closer she came to the Faithful Bride, the more frequent the leftover partygoers became.  She scanned the bodies, and knowing from experience Jack would avoid passing out in a corner, concentrated on looking to the open areas.  

No Jack.  At the Faithful Bride, she surveyed the floor and the back room, and even some of the upstairs rooms.  Still no Jack.  This worried her a bit, not the common where is my man and what is he doing worry, but the -what kind of trouble has he gotten into now- flavour of worry.  The possibility of Jack slipping off with some little piece of fluff didn't bother Ana Maria, because she never wondered about that kind of thing.  If he did it, and didn't get caught, what did it matter?  However, if he did it and she found out about it, she-knew-that-he-knew he would lose the _capacity_ to ever slip off with another piece of fluff ever again.

One of the many pieces of fluff habituating the Faithful Bride slept on top the very cushioned belly of the regular bartender.  Ana Maria knelt down close to the girl's ear.  

"I have a coin if you have an answer."  

That woke her.  Eyes squinting against the harsh morning light she stared up at Ana while waiting for the question. 

"Captain Jack Sparrow was here last night.  You know him?"

"Everyone knows Sparrow."  She answered.  "He was here."

"Where is he now?" 

The girl raised her head a bit and glanced around the room.  "I don' see him."  

"I know he isn't here.  Do you know where he went?"

"He got drunk an left with the blue lady I think.  That's who I seen 'im with last."

"Who's the blue lady?"

She shrugged.  "Crazy girl, wears blue so that's what we call 'er.  I don' know where she lives.  My coin?"

Ana dropped the coin in the girls waiting hand.  Now, to find the blue lady.

If one person in Tortuga knew everyone, Ana counted on it being Graziella Roi.  The voodoo witch lived in a small room only a block away from Tortuga's most reputed tavern, and if a bit of gossip or news were to reach town, the witch always knew of it first.  

Numerous symbols decorated the door, and Ana selected a relatively unmarked spot to knock on.  Most of the drawings looked like children's scribble, but then to Ana's thinking, most writing looked like children's scribble too.  

Graziella opened the door after several minutes and greeted her visitor with a welcoming smile.  The woman looked old and crippled, but Ana knew that inside that disguise of frailty, the witch could defend herself as well as any seasoned fighter.  

The old woman waved a hand towards a wooden chair at her kitchen table.  "You are a lovely sight on such a dim morning."  She hobbled into her kitchen and stirred something inside a black pot.  "Bringing me more hats to curse?"    

"No hats.  Questions.  In any case, your curse on the hat didn't work."

"Ah, but only because you didn't want it to.  You need advice?"

"Jack Sparrow is in town."

The woman's head bobbed as she concentrated on stirring her bowl.  "And you misplaced him already did you?  Or do you think perhaps he misplaced himself?"

"No."  Ana left no room for argument.  

"I don't see how I can help you.  He's only run off this morning has he?  Ana, my dear child, I hoped you were smarter than to run after any man.  This Jack Sparrow carries bad luck, you are better off with him misplaced."

"Who is the blue lady?"

The witch turned and frowned.  "Why do you ask that?"

"A barmaid saw them together."  

"With the blue lady?  Willingly?"

"How should I know?  Where can I find her?"

Graziella shook her head and abandoned her task to come sit beside Ana Maria.  "No where when she wishes not to be found."

The whole air my mystery and dread surrounding this unknown person made Ana want to scream.  "_Who and what is the blue lady_?" 

_HI!  Please review???  How's it going?  Anyone still reading?  Anyone still there?_  


	4. The Blue Lady

_If anyone is thinking I own anything, you've got problems.  _

_Anyhow,   Much great thanks for Jackfan for beta-reading while working on her story… I am taking up valuable writing time… and it is much appreciated.  Thanks to everyone who reviewed and is willing to stick through another angst fest especially as this one started out so promisingly happy… apparently my happy pills have expired and I am looking for a new pack.  Maybe later.  Angst is just too much fun._  

**__**

**__**

**_Chapter 4, Remember me?_**

She wore blue.  Only blue.  It was the strangest thing.  Jack reclined in his chair, bottle of rum firmly gripped in his hand, and he stared.  He could have sworn he saw her some place before.

His drinking companions of the evening, hanger-ons who recognised the pirate Captain and stooped low enough to think that brown-nosing would be enough to earn them a place on the Pearl, followed his gaze and caught sight of this object of fascination.  

They laughed, but they didn't explain why.  

As fun as it was being left out of the joke, Jack shifted his eyes back towards his groupies and offered them a gold-toothed sneer.  "Buy us some more rum, and I'll let you explain what's so funny."  

Of course, they did buy him rum, and they told a story.  The blue lady is crazy, more so than Freakish-Fred over in the corner picking at his toes, and she even beat The King who presently sat at the bar holding court and telling everyone once again how he switched places with a peasant to discover what it was like to live among common folk.  The blue lady belongs in an asylum, and in truth, she came from one.  

And what is crazy about her?  Jack asked

She wears blue.  Came the answer.  She talks in riddles that make no sense, and to people who don't exist.  She wanders the alleys searching for her lost heart, and then disappears for days or weeks only to return as though she never left.  

What is so crazy about that?  Jack asks.

The groupies stopped their story and snickered.  "Talk to her yerself, and you'll understand."  

Therefore, Jack did exactly that.  He took the new bought bottle of rum and headed directly across the tavern towards the blue lady.  

She stood near the wall, watching the activity dancing around her with an anxious eye.  As Jack approached, she looked towards him and her body tensed like a hunted animal ready to flee.  Seeing this, Jack slowed his approach and held up the rum.  

"Drink?"

She didn't flee, but she didn't relax either.  One hand rose close to her head and her fingers flexed with a quick nervous rhythm.  "Drinking is all anyone does here."  She told him quickly, and then looked nervously to the left.  "That's all.  That's it."  

"But not you." 

She held no glass or bottle, and she nodded her agreement to that statement.  "Not me.  It's not enough.  I drank once, I drank, and it was gone."  She looked to Jack again, and down at his rum.  "Burned it up."  

She took the rum he held and took a long thirsty swallow.  "No more for me."  She repeated and drank some more.  "I know you."

Jack tried not to look into her eyes, because indeed, he recognised her too.  "It would seem so."  

She nodded and smiled.  "We'll sit and talk about better days.  We've a history you and I, and I think you owe me a drink."  A nearby table caught her eye and she marched towards it.  The occupants of that table saw her coming and quickly abandoned their seats.  

Jack and the blue lady sat down.  Jack raised a hand toward his groupies and they brought him yet another bottle, but this time they did not linger to chat.  Just as well, he didn't particularly want the added company right now.  

"You think like the others, that I'm mad."

He only shrugged and let her continue.  

"I might be mad, but I know the truth."  She reached across the table and took his bottle of rum, looking it over carefully.  "A world of rum will not equal what I have lost."  She muttered, and passed it back to him.  

She placed her hand over his, and even though her touch felt cold and foul, he didn't pull away.  "I remember you that night, I listened to you whisper in my ear, and I knew I would find you again."  

He understood now what the groupies meant about her being off the map.  If there had been something to say, he would have said it, but as it was he felt he kept her company long enough.  He stood up and headed back towards the table of groupies, leaving her to finish the drink alone.   

The night passed slowly, and Jack drank whatever the groupies thought to place in front of him.  Things were defiantly looking fuzzier as the night progressed.  The blue lady crossed his vision several times while she wandered the tavern, but he avoided trying to look in her direction.  She was beautiful once upon a time, and perhaps she still was in a just out of bedlam sort of way, but that didn't mean he wanted to see it.  

The groupies slowly dwindled as the rum took its toll through the night.  Jack watched them stumble, fall, and finally pass out.  After the last one dropped, yet one more glass materialised on the table in front of him.  

Blue.  He looked up and sure enough, the blue lady stood by his side with a smile on her lips.  

"For old times sake."  She took a sip from the glass and placed it back in front of him.  "Our actions reflected the necessities of the moment.  No ill will."  

He took the glass.  Instinct screamed caution.  Jack picked up the glass.  The liquid inside smelt like rum.  "To necessity."  He took one small sip.

"I'm pleased you agree."

That one mouthful was enough to do it.  It tasted like rum, smelled like rum, but it burned like nothing he'd ever… oh wait.  Not like nothing.  The world swam and he felt himself sinking.  He knew this feeling, once long ago he felt it, this slipping feeling.  It made him want to laugh.  Laudanum.  How much laudanum did it take to knock a person out with just one sip, he wondered.  The blue lady remained standing even though she drank more of it than he did.  Interesting.  

The fog descended on his mind and he didn't feel it when he hit the floor.  The blue lady knelt beside him and looked into his eyes.  "Poor Jack.  Had too much to drink, didn't you?  Better come home with me and rest a bit."  

He let her grip his hand and pull him up.  The room wouldn't sit still.  He could deal with the swell of waves on a ship, but not this spinning feeling.  The door kept changing directions and he couldn't follow it, but fortunately, the hand on his arm guided him through the opening rather than into a wall.  Vaguely he remembered falling several times along the way.  

"Do you remember burning down my tavern Jack?  I watched my life end in that blaze."  

The spinning continued and he fell again.  He could barely see straight let alone try and walk straight, and as for thinking straight?  That was completely out of the question.  "I think I'll just sleep here."  

She tugged him back to his feet.  "It's your turn to do as I say.  Do you remember my name?  No one else remembers me."

"Your name."  Jack said slowly.  "Is Merrill Dai."  If it weren't for that fog, he might have seen the truth that if he'd simply stopped, she couldn't have taken him anywhere.  Nevertheless, once they ended up where ever it was she took him to, he promptly passed out.

…And woke up some time later with a throbbing headache.  "Look, luv, the laudanum was a nice touch, but don't you think you should be concentrating on administering it to yer own self?" 

Merrill cast him a contemptuous look.  "Don't you think I've tried?"

Leave it to her to take the comment seriously.  Jack sat up, trying to ignore the residual spinning in his head, and watched her carefully.  This was just embarrassing; he fell for the oldest trick in the book.  No ill will, Jack?  Right.  "Have you tried taking more of it?"

Another contemptuous look cast his way. 

He shut up for the moment and surveyed his surroundings.  He lay on a bed covered with a musty smelling blanket, in what appeared to be a cabin quite far along in the decomposition process.  The air felt heavy with a bitter scent coming from some ashes sizzling in the fire pit.  More drugs evidently, and most likely the reason he felt like he was floating.

"You've a plan?"  He asked.  The floorboards creaked as she walked about.  "It might be more intimidating if you told me what you were planning to do."  Apparently, she felt secure enough to leave him free, though honestly with the room spinning and twirling he didn't think he'd be able to make it far if he tried.

"You ruined my life Sparrow."  

"Captain Sparrow."  He corrected.  "An' you tried ruinin' mine first."  

"You left me nothing.  Do you know they locked me in an asylum?"  She paced a bit with her boots stomping on the floorboards hard enough he wondered if she might fall through.  "I've taken every drug I can think of after I escaped, but they didn't work.  Nothing worked, and do you know why?"

"No, but I'm guessing you'll tell me."

"It's your fault.  It doesn't matter what I take or how much, nothing can help me now.  Don't you miss it, Jack?  Don't you remember what it was like drinking the Devil's Blood?  It made me feel alive, and you took that away from me.  So now I'm going to take that from you."

"What, my life?"  He offered her a grin.    

"You'll die eventually."  She retorted.  "But it'll be slow, and I guarantee you won't like it."  

"You're being a little melodramatic don't you think?"

"You think I haven't thought this through a thousand times."  She rummaged around in a cupboard and pulled out a collection of potion filled vials.  One in particular she looked to be interested in.  "This poison."  She held up a bottle so that he could see the greyish tint.  "Is extracted snake venom.  Do you like snakes Jack?"  He didn't bother to answer, but she didn't seem upset at the lack of response.  

She pulled a dagger out of her skirts, placed it gently on the counter, and started brushing the blade with the potion.  "First you'll feel numb.  That's not so bad, but it's just the first part.  After you're numb, you start to burn.  I've tried it Jack, and it burns like a purifying fire."  

"You've tried it on yourself?"

"I had to know the stories were true."  She turned to him again and giggled prettily.  "You never know what a man might tell a girl just to separate her from a few coins.  So yes, I tried it."

"Yet you lived."

"I have an antidote.  Tastes like blood from a rotting corpse, but it works." She looked back to the blade, then again at Jack.  "You'll see what I mean."  

In the cupboard with the potions, he caught sight of his pistol, and a plan began to form.

Ahem… here is my plea for reviews… I snack on them while writing new chapters… 

Cal?  How do you find the time to read everything?  You are truly the most amazing reviewer out there, and I want you to know that I take your reviews to heart and they help shape future chapters into what they become.  

And jackfan and ich…  what would I do without you???   


	5. To the Rescue sort of

I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, or anything else for that matter.  On with the fic! 

**__**

**_Chapter Five, To the Rescue, sort of_**

Mixed in with all her other warnings and daft superstitions, Graziella finally ended up mentioning something useful about a shack located on the cliffs to the east. 

"If the mad woman has Jack, ye might want to find him as soon as possible."  

"And why is that?"  

"Cause he won't be good for nothing else afterwards."  The old witch cackled softly.  "Make's me almost feel sorry for the poor bastard."

"What does she do?"

"No one knows, the poor suckers won't talk about it after."  

Just perfect.  "And she's done this before?"

"Old Howard Tootins.  She lured him to her shack one night, and when he came back a few days later, there wasn't enough smarts left in him to say his own name."  The old witch eyed Ana sympathetically.  "I hear she's been waiting at the Faithful Bride looking for the man who wronged her.  Nevertheless, your Sparrow is more than capable of taking care of himself.  I don't thing you've much to worry about."  

Ana wasn't so certain.  Just one night she left him on his own, and this is what happens!  While Ana paid a visit to some old friends, Jack managed to get himself mixed up with a mad woman.  She would collect her Captain, get back on the orange boat, and this time no matter how bored they might get, they would not, repeat not, set port again until reaching the Pearl.  

By the time the shack came in sight, Ana worked herself into a bad enough mood she might just kill the blue lady, and Jack too if he weren't dead already.  

All seemed quiet outside the shack, and it looked no different from any other rotting structure to be found in Tortuga.  Sword in hand, Ana knocked.  

There was of course, no answer.  Not that she'd been expecting one, but with the force of her knock, the door swung open revealing a dim look of what lay within.  A heavy scent permeated the interior of the dwelling, and wisps of smoke whirled in patterns as it touched the rays of sunlight.

Jack sat calmly at a table with a pistol in his hand, aimed at a young woman seated across from him.  A young woman dressed entirely in blue, and looking suspiciously familiar.

So much for saving the day.

"Hello Merrill."  Ana spat the name like a curse.

"Stay outside."  Jack ordered, his voice hoarse and slightly slurred.  

"Jack, are you alright?"  In spite of the warning, Ana took a step inside, but she did not let her guard down.  Jack sat very still, and she didn't like the stillness in him.  

"I drugged him."  The blue lady smiled up at Ana proudly.  

Ana looked to Jack, then back to the woman he aimed the gun towards.  "Doesn't seem to be affecting his aim any."  Was it her imagination or did the room seem to be swaying?

The smoke.  She hastily stepped backwards out into the fresh air before taking another breath.  

"He wont shoot me."  The mad woman tilted her head to the side and gave a delicate laugh.  "I've done a bit more research on your captain since our last meeting.  Not so much into the whole murdering thing, is he?"  

Images of what happened on Grangers ship flashed through Ana's mind proving just how wrong that statement was.  Then again, since that day, this would be the first time Ana saw him touch his gun other than to clean it, or clip it on his belt.  It occurred to her that it didn't even carry a bullet.   

"If he doesn't kill you, I will."  Ana promised.

"Unlikely.  But I will kill you."  The chair scraped against the boards as Merrill rose to her feet.

"You'll not be killing anyone, Merrill."  Jack held the gun ready to fire should she take a step forwards.

She took the step, and Jack pulled the trigger.  For a moment, everyone stood still, but the gun only responded in a hollow clunk sound.  No bullet.  Jack shrugged.  "Sorry luv."

A scream of rage broke the momentary stillness.  In a flurry of movement, Merrill swept the knife down in a slashing arc.  If it reached it's target, the blade would carve a deep gash across Jack's upper arm, but Ana was left no time to ponder why Merrill would forgo a mortal wound in favour of a mere cut.  

Jack parried the blow with the barrel of his pistol, but with only the useless weapon at his disposal, Ana worried how much longer he'd be able to defend himself against the mad woman.  As soon as she stepped into the smoke filled room, her eyes burned and watered.  Despite the discomfort, Ana thrust her sword forward and blocked the next blow meant for her captain.  

Unable to reach her intended prey, the mad woman turned her attention towards her new adversary.  Ana took an unsteady step towards Merrill and concentrated on breathing as little as possible.  

How did the woman manage to breathe the air without feeling the effects of it?  Ana swung her sword up and out to parry a thrust aimed directly at her chest.  Ana felt a sting as the blade nicked her forearm, but the wound was superficial and promptly dismissed.

The tearing in her eyes grew worse by the second, and in the time it took to blink them clear she lost sight of both Jack and Merrill. 

"Jack?"  

An arm caught her around the waist, and she instinctively struggled against it, but she found herself pushed outside into the fresh air.  She fell backwards, and landed with Jack on the sparse grass.

It felt like heaven to be able to breath freely again, and she had to force herself to remember that the danger wasn't over yet.  The door to the shack remained open, and Ana pushed herself to her feet ready to confront Merrill once more.  

However, Merrill was gone.  

It wasn't going to be over that easily.  The fact that the mad woman obviously intended to do something to Jack made Ana's blood boil.  

After everything they'd been through in the past year, and after everything Jack went through while in Granger's custody, there was no way Merrill Dai would get away with hurting him again.  

But his hand pulled her back.

Jack stood at her side, his fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist.  "Sit down."  

She watched him closely, fearing he might be injured.  His eyes were red and irritated like her own were, and he seemed to be swaying on his feet.  Ana reached out to steady him, and together they sat.  

"Are you alright, Jack?"

The question seemed to confuse him, because rather than answer he pulled off his shirt and ripped a length off the back.  

"What are you doing?"

"You're bleeding."  The drugged air still affected his speech and he spoke slowly.  

"It's nothing."  She turned to look at her arm, and she was right, there wasn't much bleeding at all.  "Hardly a scratch."  

He looked away a moment, then continued cleaning the blood from her skin.  

Ana began to worry in earnest.  This wasn't her Jack, her Jack would be up, and chasing after Merrill, not sitting here and taking care of a simple cut like it meant the end of the world.  "Jack, what did she do to you?"  She swore silently to herself that if Merrill so much as touched him she would die a slow and painful death.  

"Nothing.  She did nothing to me."  He looked off into the distant sea.  "The blade she cut you with was coated in poison."   

**_Note:_**

Message from Moo the Muse.  The Rat was correct in telling everyone that she owns nothing, this is because I own it.  I am the Rat's amazingly talented secretary; I am her Higgins, in a 'magnum p.i.' sort of way. She thinks I work for her, but really she is the one working for me, but don't tell her that okay?  It would ruin my fun.  That is right.  I, the fabulous Moo, will make all replies to reviews.  Rat will read them, she might suggest something for me to answer, but I will be doing the actual replying.  Savvy?  

Why?  I just wanted a little more time in the limelight.  Her husband has recently told the Rat that hearing voices (me included, the nerve of him!) is not normal behaviour.  This is my response.  SO THERE!  I am what keeps her writing!  Got it?  I am the MUSE!  You don't mess with the muse, unless you want the muse to bite you back!  So on behalf of the Fabulous Moo, Ichabod the spider (affectionately referred to as Ich), and Jackfan2 (who isn't really in the same category but the Rat has never seen her and has recently discovered she may not really exist after all so maybe she really is in the same category)… all of us turn to the Rat's darling husband and yell in unison- POO ON YOU!  ****


	6. Dealing With It

**_Chapter Six, Dealing with it_**

There are no happy-endings.  Ana fully expected to find one soon, but obviously it wouldn't be today.  

She started feeling a tingling sensation in her arm shortly after Jack made her sit down.  At first, it felt numb, then it started to itch, and then it started to burn.  Length of cloth was tied around her upper arm to slow the spread of the poison, but she didn't feel any difference.  

Jack shifted and pushed himself to his feet.  Ana could see he didn't feel all that steady on his feet, but none the less he took a step towards the deserted shack.  "She has an antidote."  

"You can't go back in there.  Not until the air is cleared and we know Merrill is gone."  

"She's gone."  His gaze remained fixed on the shack.  "Stay here, don't do anything stupid."

"Like you?  You should see yourself Jack.  You can barely stand, what happens if she's in there."  

"Then I deal with it."

"Like you've dealt with it for the past month?"  

The 'it' she specifically referred to was strictly taboo from any conversation, and the look he gave her let her know exactly what he thought about her bringing it up now.  Without a response, he stalked off towards the cabin.  There was no way she'd let him go in there alone, she pushed herself up with her good arm and followed him in.  

The interior remained smoke filled and heavy with the scent of the drugs, but Jack walking into it without hesitation, and knelt by a cabinet to sift through various unmarked bottles and potions.  Now and then, he'd open a stopper and smell it carefully. 

"Stop that!"  Ana rushed forwards as he dipped his pinkie finger into one murky pinkish fluid and dabbed it to his lips.  

Not finding what he wanted, he replaced the stopper and placed it with the other small containers by his side.  

"Are you daft Sparrow?  How do you know that isn't some kind of poison?"  He continued searching the bottles as Ana knelt beside him.  "Do you even know what to look for?"

"Yes."  

That gave her pause.  "You do?"

He swayed dangerously to the side before reaching out and steadying himself with a hand against the counter.  "She spoke of it while preparing the blade, I know what to look for."  

"Jack, we've got to get you out of here."  

He turned back to the vials of liquid in the cabinet and continued his search.  

"I wont be able to drag you out if you faint."  

"I'M STILL MOVING, I'M STILL BREATHING, I'M FINE!  I may pass out, but you'll be dead.  I'll find it."  

Ana held onto him as his eyes drifted shut, but he recovered in time to keep from falling.  He reached for another bottle and examined it closely; another bottle of milky pink solution.  He tasted this one too, and spat it out as soon as it touched his lips.  "This is it."  

"How do you know what it tastes like?"  

"Drink it."  

Without any further hesitation, she brought the vial to her lips, drank, and choked.  There was nothing in her life she'd ever tasted that could come close to being as bad.  

Once done, she stepped back and braced herself against the table.  "Now we get out of here."  

Whatever kept him going long enough to find the vial deserted him, and his eyes closed once again.  "Damn it Jack."  She stumbled forwards and took his hand.  "Get up."  

He did get up, and together they stumbled back out into the fresh air and daylight.  The potion in that vial made her skin crawl and her head feel dizzy.  She felt herself slipping into darkness, and fought it to the very last.  Jack was already down, over come by the fumes, and Ana knew she needed to stay awake for both their sakes.  

But the darkness could not be held back.  

Ana awoke in a candlelit room, not outside where she passed out.  She lay beneath a warm blanket with a soft feather pillow behind her head.  Her head spun as she sat up, and panic sent a wave of nausea through her stomach.  

"Jack?"

Where was he?  He'd passed out along side her earlier in the day, and she feared what might have happened while they'd been unconscious.  Slowly, her head aching with the effort, she pushed herself upright and sat up.  It didn't matter if her head hurt or if her muscles ached, she needed to find her Captain.

"Lie down."

Ana just about jumped out of her skin.  Jack stood so close behind her that she felt his breath on her neck.  "I didn't see you."

Instead of answering with some smart quip, he placed a hand on her shoulder and forced her to lie back.  "How's the head feeling?"

How could he be concerned about a silly headache when there were so many other things going on at the same time?  Where were they?  Did Merrill come back?  "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am."  He sat beside her and placed a cool hand on her forehead.  "And don't think to argue, you should know better than to doubt the word of a pirate." 

"That's not an answer."  

"How 'bout yes, then?  Yes, I am fine and the only thing not fine is having to debate with you insisting that there is something wrong with me."  

Her head spun, this wasn't the time to be unwinding the riddles of Jack's speech.  He pressed his hand to her forehead to check for sings of fever, but she felt relatively cool to the touch.  

There were voices speaking in the other room, and by the sound of it, they were drawing closer to the door.  "What language is that?  Where are we Jack?"  She watched his expression carefully, alert for the smallest hint at what might be going on in that head of his

A glance at the door where the voices came from, followed by a seemingly careless look back in her direction, made her deduct there'd be trouble coming very soon.  He stood, pointed at her, and ordered her to stay before walking out the door.  What did he take her for?  A Dog?

"Good girl Ana, be a good girl."  She mocked and once again sat up. 

It made her head swim to stand, but she did it.  There were still way too many unanswered questions for her to remain resting.  She didn't remember anything after passing out on the dirt, and so how did she get to be in her current location?  In addition, who lived here?  Why were they here at all?

It took time to get onto her feet, but she did it.  The voices outside her door continued, and it worried her that she couldn't make out what they were saying.  

She pushed open the door and stood gripping the doorframe, simply staring at the scene in front of her.  Jack stood conversing with two men, but she couldn't understand a single word of what they were saying.  German?  Whatever it was, Jack didn't have any trouble speaking it.

His eyes turned to her as soon as the door opened.  She felt something rumble in her stomach.  It didn't feel right, but now she didn't even know which way was up let along right.  

A supportive arm wrapped about her waist seconds later trying to push her back into the little room she woke up in.   

"Jack?"  She asked breathlessly.  She felt like her mouth was full of saliva; it made it hard to talk.  

He shifted slightly to carry her weight better.    

"Ohno."  She paused, and her stomach did something it definitely shouldn't be doing.  It felt like a punch coming from within, pushing everything in the wrong direction.  It occurred to her it might be a good idea to get closer to the floor, but there wasn't time.  Jack held her up, and despite her efforts to push him away, he held tight.  

She felt the contraction in her stomach; she knew what was about to happen.  Jack held her on her left, and so she tried to turn to the right.  She really made the effort, but the damn pirate kept trying to hold onto her, and so try as she might she couldn't help it.  He was just too damn close to miss. 

The heaving lasted at least five minutes.  Ana felt physically better afterwards, though mentally she might have preferred drowning just to end the embarrassment of what just happened.  

There was lots of yelling in German.  Jack stayed by her side, and did as much yelling back as the men did the yelling at.  In the end it seemed agreed whatever debt they owed Sparrow got paid when Ana heaved all over their floor.  Paid in full with extra owing, seeing as the acquaintances chased the pirates out of their house before any proposal to clean the mess got offered.  

"Feeling better?"

Ana sat on the steps with her knees up.  "I'm sorry."  The warm pressure she felt on her back belonging to Jack's hand moved in slow soothing circles.  

"Just as well.  They weren't serving much of a purpose now I have my Pearl back."  He continued to rub her back, and though she knew he wanted to say something more, he remained silent.  

"Jack?"

"Mmmm?"

"I tried to aim away from you."

"It washes off, and the smell isn't nearly so bad out in the air as it was inside.  In any case, I retched seeing Henry and Barney the first time too."  

Laughing hurt her stomach.  Not good.  "So what now?"  

**_Author's note!  _**

Here we are again, the end of a chapter.  Some people have come up with the notion that I, the fabulous Moo, and Rat are one and the same.  That is not true.  I, the fabulous Moo, am not Rat.  Nor is Rat, Moo.  Tammy, you might have met her in an email somewhere, is neither Rat, nor Moo, and takes slight offence at being confused with the two.  

All of us would like feedback, and the easiest way to do that is to post a review.  Let us know how the fic is going, what things you might be getting tired of.  Tammy is somewhat tired of the morose chapter endings and cliff hangers, Rat seems to prefer the morose and angsty side of things, and I, the fabulous Moo, am here to flush out what the readers would like to see more of.  That is, if there are any readers.  There are, aren't there?  

In any case, if you are reading this then obliviously it stands to reason that it is being read.  


	7. The Wicked Witch Of Jack's Past

**_Chapter SEVEN! The Wicked Witch of Jack's Past_**

_What now, Ana asked.  _

What now, indeed.  There didn't seem to be many options open.  Jack needed to get Ana someplace safe, and he thought that place could have been with Henry and Barney, but obviously not.  This was Tortuga after all, what was a little vomit among friends? 

Other ideas came to mind, other people he knew.  Most of them were prostitutes, or as Ana insisted on calling them, fluff.  He didn't suspect they'd appreciate him dropping off his sick lover on their doorstep, and visa versa, he doubted very much Ana would appreciate being dropped off to them.  So that negated almost all of the contacts Jack considered grouped into the –those who don't wish to kill me today- category.  

The one person he knew would be able to take care of Ana, he would really rather not see for maybe another hundred years or so.  Leaving Ana on her doorstep, and running off before she could open the door might be an option, if he thought he could get away with it.  

"Off we go, lets find you another bed."  He helped her up and started the long, dreaded walk he knew would only end in disaster.  

When they reached the door, Jack stared at the new engraving carved into the wood.  He remembered these, even remembered carving some of them himself, but added to the old symbols were new designs he didn't recognise.  It reminded him how long it'd been since last standing on this doorstep.  He raised his hand to rap on the door, but before he could do so, the door swung open and the old woman's wrinkled face poked out at him.  

"You don't look so misplaced to me."  She grumbled, and then poked her nose out further.  "What have you done to my Ana Maria?"

"Graziella."  He greeted her through clenched teeth.  She scampered to Ana's side and took over the task of bringing her in through the door, leaving Jack on the doorstep with the perfect opportunity for escape.  

Jack made no move to enter, but Graziella did not forget he was there.  "Are you coming in or not you old scallywag?"  

Jack slowly, reluctantly, stepped inside.  "Look who's calling who old, witch."  The house did not look much different from when he last saw it.  The air smelt of a musty and vaguely disturbing cross between fresh bread and rotten eggs, and dust lined the shelves and counters like a thick blanket.  Every available shelf was crammed with jars and boxes, with no discernable distinction to where the cooking supplies ended, and where the eye of newt and toe of frog might begin.  

She cackled evilly.  "Ah, I am older than I look, you look older than you are, tell me now who's got the short end of that stick?"

"You've added new symbols?"  He asked, tracing a finger along one engraving after another.  

"Wouldn't you like to know, eh Sparrow?  Now tell me, what's happened to our dear girl here?"  She brought Ana Maria to the bed and helped her lay down before turning her sharp eye back on Jack.  

He told her the whole story, so far as he remembered it.  

Graziella frowned, making the lines on her face stand out in deep furrows.  "She needs rest, is all.  Now, let me see you."

"What?"

"I hear you've been having some excitement of your own lately and ended up with some crazy doctors looking after you.  Now it's my turn to set right what ever damage they might have caused with their arrogant ineptitude."  

Jack backed away.  "What about Ana Maria?"

"Don't you worry 'bout the girl.  It's you I'm talking with, and I see it in your eyes that you've got some pain of your own.  No hiding it from Graziella, you needn't bother to try."  

Jack looked about for escape, but the witch stood between him and the door

She picked up a stick from the floor and pointed it in his direction.  "Sit."  She ordered.  

Before he could remember why not to, he sat.  She stepped closer and offered a toothy yellow smile.  "See, not so hard taking orders again, is it?"  She cooed.  "So how many times has my little Sparrow dodged the reaper's blade this time round?'  She took his hand, lifted the cuff of his shirt to look at the brand in his arm, and traced the scar with a gnarled finger.  "Remember when you came to me with this?  A time's going to come you won't be so nimble in your escape."  

He pulled his arm back.  "I'm fine."

"Yes, of course you are."  She agreed.  "How many men did you kill, Jack?  How many lives did you take, after swearing to me you'd never take from others what was taken from you?"

"I don't remember."  

"Bull."  She spat.  "You know exactly how much blood is on your hands.  Twelve men.  And how many more along the way have lost their lives just for knowing you?"  She stood up.  "You're going to lose one of these days, luck is a tenuous thing, and you've never played her good side.  When you lose, you'll deserve whatever hell waits for you."  

"Hey!"  Ana sat up from her place on the bed.  "What are you doing?  Let him be."  She struggled to stand up and held onto the table as she stepped forwards unsteadily.  "You weren't there; you have no idea what we were up against!"  

The witch paid no attention to Ana.  She lowered her voice to a whisper so that only Jack could hear, and took on a more gentle tone as she spoke.  "If you go out there and get yourself killed, hell is exactly where you belong."  She forced him to look her in the eyes.  "The men who died on your sword knew the risks; you're no killer.  They stole your soul, but it's your own job to find it back."  

The words of her speech were lost in Ana's unexpected distress across the room.  The signs were clear; Ana's knees buckled and she brought her hand up to her mouth, as though that would stop anything from escaping.  In the effort to get to Ana in time, Jack pushed past Graziella and almost tripped over a pile of herbs bundled on the floor.  

"Bucket!"  He shouted.

Quick as a cat, Graziella tossed a bucket in his direction.  Jack caught it and placed it strategically under Ana's head just in time.  He knelt beside her and with one hand holding her forehead steady, and the other wrapped around her shoulders as she yet again emptied her stomach.  

"We'll go somewhere else."  She choked out as soon as she was able to speak.

Jack helped ana sit up and held her as Graziella left to take the bucket outside to empty.  Her eyes were glassy, and she blinked rapidly.  "Shhh, it's been a long day."  He tried to sound soothing, but soothing didn't come naturally, and he felt relieved when she pushed him away.  

"No."  What looked suspiciously like the beginning of tears were swept away from her face with the back of her hand, and now she looked mad more than she looked sick.  "We don't need her."  Her focus shifted as Graziella walked back inside with a now empty bucket, and turned her wrath on the old woman once again.  "How dare you think to judge us!"

However, Graziella only smiled.  "I am not judging you my dear.  It is Sparrow I am judging, no one else."

"What right do you have?"  Ana yelled back.  "You don't even know him!"

Here, Jack placed a hand on Ana's shoulder and turned her attention back to him.  "But she does know me."  The look Ana gave him that would have sent a lesser man screaming.  

"You know her?"

He nodded.  "'Fraid so."

She looked to Graziella.  "This is true?  You know Jack?"

"More years than I care to remember."

"And neither of you thought to tell me this?"  She stood up, took a seat at the table, and fastened her gaze on the witch.  "When I came to you months ago with the hat, and then yesterday when I came you asking about the Blue Lady, you never thought to tell me that you know him."

The witch smiled.  "Aye.  Frankly lass, it's none of your business who I do and do not know.  Now you can go all high and mighty on me about truth in all its forms, but truth has never been a good friend to old Graziella."

"This isn't a battle worth fighting."  Jack added quietly.  He didn't mean to say the words out loud, hadn't meant to say anything in fact.  But now that they were said, he couldn't unsay them, and so suffered the sudden scrutiny such a thoughtless and introspective comment often solicited.

Ana answered.  "And there is the root of our problem.  For you, there is no battle worth fighting anymore, is there?"  

The words rocked him to the core, and he could not answer.  This was it.  Since waking up from the horror of what he did on Granger's ship, this is what haunted him.  This was what lay at the heart of Ana's over protectiveness, and as much as he loathed admitting it, there was little he could do to avoid it anymore.  

_Jack, she thinks you are a coward.  _His subconscious mocked him.

_I'm not.  _

_Why don't you answer her then?_

Since that day on Granger's ship when the world as he knew it ended with the shot from a pistol, he fought a daily battle against himself.  The fury he felt over seeing (or thinking he saw) Ana's death, unleashed a rage within him he never knew existed.  All those years he held onto the slow burning need for revenge against Barbossa for raising mutiny on the Pearl, stealing his ship, leaving him to die, and sending his only true friend to a watery grave, he never experienced anything like this.  Ten years of holding a pistol with the intension of using it on only one man, that slow burn of revenge never even came close to the intensity of what he felt that day.  

The memory sat close to the surface, and he relived it again now.  He knew Granger would kill her, knew it, but did nothing until after it was done.  That was when the frenzy took over.  It blinded his eyes, deafened his ears, and overrode all his sense with its need for blood.  The need to spill blood, the way Granger so callously spilled Ana's blood.  It didn't matter who got in the way, he cut them down in the grim determination to see an end to Granger Adams.  

And even in that, he failed.  

The potential to kill rested within him.  He always knew and accepted that being a Pirate came with a certain amount of risk, the danger of being attacked, the possibility of ending a life in the defence of said attack.  He never used to dwell on that aspect on life.  Life is too short right?  Have another drink of rum, enjoy the time you have, and don't worry about what you cannot change.  And now? 

He remembered the smell of the blood he spilled.  His hands held the memory of thrusting his sword through human flesh, and when he looked at his sword, he remembered the sight of the blade covered with the thick dark stain coating the metal all the way to the hilt.  

He knew he could do it again.  

When it came to handling his sword or pistol, he remembered what it was like to lose control, and he feared what would happen if he lost control again.  He thought, wrongly, that this new phobia concerned only his own self.  

Nevertheless, Ana almost paid with her life.  Because he refused to carry a loaded pistol, because he could not stand the thought of staining his hands with more blood, he failed to stop Merrill when he should have.  What use is an unloaded pistol? 

If not for the antidote, he would have lost Ana for the second time.  He came to close to failing her again.  Graziella was right, how many friends paid the ultimate price for the mistakes he made?  Bad luck followed him, and it spread like a plague to those he cared for most.  

Therefore, he made a decision.  If he could not protect those he loved, he would not love them.  

Graziella only meant to use reverse psychology earlier when she told him he deserved whatever hell waited for him, but she didn't understand the truth behind what she said.  He already lived in a hell of memory and guilt.  It could not get worse than this.  

As much as he loved Ana, he would not see her hurt again because of it.  She deserved better than this.  She deserved better than him.

Then again, it wasn't like he kept a gun to her head forcing her to remain by his side.  Even if he did, she knew it wasn't loaded.

_She can stay so long as she damn well wants to stay.  _He told himself.

_But, what if staying gets her killed or worse?  You've already admitted to being bad luck.  _He answered back.  

_She won't get killed.  _

_But what if?_  The little nagging voice continued to be a pest.  

_She won't.  I'll make sure of it.  _

"I never said all battles aren't worth the fight.  Just this one."  He reached out and manoeuvred his arm around the back of Ana's chair, lightly trailing his fingers along a fold of her shirt.  For a change, Ana did not swat away his hand; she leaned into it instead.  This worried him a bit, what ever happened to the 'touch- me-in-public-and-die' attitude she was so fond of?  "Disagreeing with Graziella only gets you worse luck."  

The old woman beamed at the apparent compliment to her skills.  "Precisely, and don't forget it.  Now, tell me, what is your plan to track down our crazy little blue girl?"

"We are on vacation."  Jack stood up and started inspected a row of bottles lined along the shelf.  The bottles were filled with murky looking fluid, and was that a tiny eyeball floating in one, or just an olive?  "Being on vacation means we relax, and participate in other various activities not as relaxing but infinitely more interesting."  He looked to Ana for confirmation on this revelation, and she nodded in agreement.  Agreeing with him fit into yet another very un-Ana Maria-ish trait, this too worried him.  

"Do I want to hear this Jack?  What does it have to do with your problem who, as we speak, is running around Tortuga wanting you dead?"  Graziella asked sceptically.  

A jar crowded in at the back of the shelf caught his attention and he picked it up to inspect just a little closer as he continued speaking.  "Relaxing and these other various things, do not include running off after a nutty girl with an assortment of poisons at her disposal."  He shook the bottle slightly and a small creature bumped up against the glass peering back at him.  Jack quickly apologized to the being and placed it back onto the shelf with the others.  

"In other words, we will be running after no one.  Why put the effort into a chase if it is just as likely what we seek, will seek us out first?"  

****

****

****

**Authors Note:**  It recently was pointed out to me that Jackfan2 might be the real one and I am the figment of imagination, if this is so- then how do I know what thoughts are my own and what thoughts are the fictional ones?  How do I know that any of my thoughts are my thoughts, and not just placed there by Jackfan2 (who might be writing my thoughts) for the reader to ponder?  How do I even know I am here and writing this, or if I am being written as being here and writing this?  Am I really posting a chapter, or is this all just some scribble in a notebook to be ripped out and tossed away once the moment for contemplation has passed???  

Oh my.  Please review, the future of reality depends on it!  

_Luv, Moo The Muse, and the Writer Rat. _


	8. I could have sworn we parked here

**Chapter ****_Eight, I could have sworn we parked here!_**

Looks were cast in Jack and Ana Maria's direction as they made their way back to the docks.  It wasn't so much the looks that offended, as it was the sniggers.  Did it really matter what people thought of them?  Well, Jack cared somewhat, or at least he cared somewhat about this.  Ana knew that in all the years Jack roamed Tortuga, he didn't ever lose his stomach.  Never.  Captain Jack Sparrow was simply not seen crouching in some alley puking the night's revelries on the gravel.  Yes, Captain Jack might pass out from having a few too many too often, but he never, ever, got sick on it.  

Now he walked through Tortuga splattered in what was unmistakably… vomit.  Not his of course, but seeing as it resided on his clothing; the assumption was it also came from him.  

The incident depositing the bulk of the mess on Jack's clothing took place just before leaving Graziella's.  Ana succumbed to yet another spell of nausea, and Jack once again tried to assist.  She almost fainted with the onslaught of sickness, and Jack caught her before she could hit the floor.  However, as he could not hold both Ana and the bucket at the same time, well, Ana felt very bad about the result.  Especially for the fact that once again, she seemed not to receive any of it on her own self.  

So now, they walked together through the heart of Tortuga, and right past the front door of the Faithful Bride.  The smell really was something horrible and even Ana walked several feet away from the Pirate Captain because of it.  Whatever had been in that vial of antidote Jack fed her, might have kept her from dying, but it certainly did not sit well in her system.  As bad as the stuff had been while drinking it, it became five times worse coming back up, and carried with it a stench just as ghastly and as powerful as the taste.   

Everyone who passed caught scent of the nauseating smell, and inevitably, their gaze sought out the source of the foul odour.  

Even from a few feet away Ana felt a little queasy from the stench; she could only imagine what Jack must be feeling, seeing as it resided on his clothing.  In fact, more than once she witnessed him choking back his own urge to get sick.  

At least they were getting closer to the Atrocity, (the little orange boat), and there Jack would finally be able to change his clothes and clean up a bit.

Or so Ana thought.  She stood with Jack at the harbour, and what should have been an easy sight to spot, wasn't.  They stood and stared at the boats docked there and blinked, thinking, maybe I'm just missing it.  

No orange boat glared out of the water to greet them.  It just wasn't possible.  There wasn't a soul in town who didn't know who that boat belonged to.  The Atrocity belonged to Ana Maria… and Jack too of course.  

Ana blinked.  No boat.  She blinked again.  Still no boat.  

"Someone stole my boat."  

"Well luv, it's not like it's the first time."  Jack shrugged and turned back towards the town.  "Someone's had to see what happened to it.  The Atrocity doesn't exactly blend."  

"But, someone stole my boat."  It occurred to her that maybe Jack might not understand the enormity of what happened here.  How could he remain so calm?  This was her boat.  Hers.  Okay, it was both of theirs, but she was the one who painted it orange and cared for it the most.  Her boat was gone!  Again!

"Don't get excited."  

She watched Jack take a few careful steps away from her.  "How can I not!  Someone stole my boat!"

"What happened the last three times you got upset?"  Jack raised his eyebrows meaningfully.  

She didn't get it.  "I don't get it."

"First, you saw Henry and Barney and though I can't see what got you excited about them, but the result is what counts, agreed?  Second, you came to my very unnecessary defence against Graziella.  Again, look at the result.  Third, and this one at least I can understand, upon hearing my ingenious plan, yet again, what came of that?"  He gestured meaningfully at the front of his shirt and jacket, and parts of his pants.

The coincidence of the three episodes struck her as odd, but they were just coincidence.  "I am not sick.  I am angry.  I want my, rather our, boat back.  Your so called ingenious plan isn't going to get us anywhere without our boat!"

Holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, he slowly advanced one tentative step, and made it obvious that at the first sign of trouble; he'd run as far and as fast away as possible.  "As I was saying, someone has to have seen the Atrocity running off without her owners."  

Ana cast a glare around the harbour.  Did he mean someone close by?  The hilt of her dagger felt cool against her palm, and she swore that when she found the boat thief, they'd be sorry.  

"Sorry is exactly what I am sure they already are."  Jack added, and Ana felt a little shocked she said the last bit out loud without knowing it.  "We are clearly looking for someone who is colour blind.  That can be the only explanation; otherwise, the boat would never have been stolen in the first place."  Seeing her glare at him, he quickly added, "Because, clearly, no one would be stupid enough to ever think of stealing a boat of yours."

"You did."  

He winced a bit at the insinuation in her remark, but grinned as he answered.  "And look where it got me.  Without a doubt, the thief is going to be sorry."  

"You have a point."  The grip on her dagger relaxed, but only a little.  "What now?"

"We question people."  

"Shouldn't we get you some new clothes first?"  

Jack grinned.  "Use what we got, luv.  Seeing as we don't got much else at the moment, I think this'll work just fine the way it is."  

Note, it's a bit shorter a chapter than I would have liked, but I thought it deserved it's own emphasis only a chapter break can bring.  

How's all going so far?  Anyone reading?  How is it going?  Is it worth continuing?  Or have I totally lost everyone's attention?  I need to know, cause I would like to know where I went awry in the story.  Is it the characterization?  The fact it's a long continuation of a series of stories, or has it just lost focus and what I think is fun while writing, isn't so much fun while reading?  

In any case, I appreciate comments, good or bad, but hopefully constructive.  

-luv Rat. 


	9. Old man of chapter nine

**_The Old Man of Chapter Nine_******

If you got a drink, I got a story to share.  

You do have a drink?  Good, good, cause you better believe I've got a story.

Here I am sitting in my spot I sit in, and I do own this spot, no word of a lie.  I been sitting here longer then I can remember and I see more than anyone gives me credit for.  Figuring me blind and deaf as well as drunk, is what most people make the mistake of doing.  Not old Barnaby, that be my name if anyone cares, and these old senses are just as finely tuned as they day I landed myself in this port.  Don't you doubt it. 

I seen many interesting things going on, having been here so long most people start mistaking me for part of the scenery.  So, I see things indeed.  Just the other day I saw the most… ahem _notorious_, now I use that word loosely mind you because the stories about this pirate are much and exaggerated, I see this pirate arriving to dock in a orange boat.  And who do you think I am referring to?  None other than _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.  Notorious my arse, anyone with half a brain can clearly see the man's no more than an act.  Makes an art out of being underestimated, is what he does.  

Back in my days of being a Captain, ah yes, I was a captain of a mighty fine ship indeed, and it's worthy of a story of it's own, not just a little crumb to be mentioned and left for the mice to pick at.  Back in my captaining days, a man like that would get eaten for lunch.  Indeed, I'd have snacked on him myself.  Any pirate who goes out of his way to avoid killing his obstacles isn't worth a spit, is what I say.

This _Captain_ Sparrow, he arrives in Tortuga in a bloody orange boat, a sight fit to send any respectful pirate into fits.  As it did me, don't you doubt it.  He arrived with a woman, I recognized her as being Ana Maria and former habitant of this very port, ah what a fine lass to look at she is. So they dock their eye sore of a boat and emerge, and this is when I see it first.  Our _Captain_ Sparrow ain't looking all that healthy.  Could it be some of the rumours I've been hearing told have some truth?  Could it be that my good old friend Granger Adams really did get his claws into the pirate he was looking for?  I heard no word of what came of that, but then sometimes news doesn't travel so fast to these old ears.  No one thinks to tell me nothing anymore.

Whatever the story, it matters not.  At the sight of this legendary pirate arriving at my dock in an eyesore of an orange boat, what else could I do?  I laughed.  

"That be your boat now Sparrow?  A finer reward was never more deserved."  I yelled out to him.  Oh, but this was a precious sight for old eyes, I pray daily for seeing this mock of a pirate taken down a peg or two.  

They had the gaul to threatened me for that jest.  Not seriously, mind you.  In any case, whatever the troubles he's been having, he still managed to look like the cat who swallowed the canary, and I felt my heart sink with the thought maybe he wasn't so down in his luck as I'd first hoped.  

So be it.  Old Barnaby is used to disappointment.  And as for the canary, Ana Maria might not have been swallowed, but it sure looked like she was receiving some attentive licks from her new cat.  Both of them looked well licked, I'll tell you that.  

Well, the pirates split ways, maybe to go lick someone else for a while, who knows?  There I was sitting and watching and minding my own business and that damn orange thing wouldn't let me alone.  Bore a hole right through my eye sockets with just how orange it was.  Who paints a bloody boat orange anyhow?  Night wore on, thankfully the sun set, and the bloody orange boat became somewhat less noticeable than it was.   A damn hollow comfort, I'd just have to see it again in the morning wouldn't I?  Just the thought sent cramps of dread to my belly.  

Morning brought more entertainment, but we'll save that telling for a bit, shall we?  

Morning passed, and after the brief fun I had, things quieted down until later in the day when my pirate friends returned.  

Moments like this are precious and need to be savoured properly, showing my hand too soon would have just ruined my fun.  The pirate couple, ah how sweet they looked together, stood, and stared blankly out at the ships on the dock.  If I could bottle that look, I'd be a happy man indeed.  

After a while they seemed to recover a bit, the shock of looking for and not seeing their bloody orange eye sore finally sinking in as they realized, damn, its gone ain't it?  I knew what was coming next, and being not too far away I could hear every word they said.  Ho, but this was just growing more fun by the second.  

Now, for all I might dislike and ridicule Jack Sparrow, the man does have a presence about him.  Even at the best of times, Sparrow doesn't need to hold a sword in his hands to intimidate, and by the look of him, these were not the best of times.  

The pirate captain stood, swaying in a little more than his usual drunken manner with some crusty chunks of vomit stuck on his shirt.  One would think Sparrow had done this to himself, but myself being fairly familiar with common bodily functions, I can recognize the look of a man who puked all over himself.  No, this was not a man who puked himself, but a man who was puked on.  Didn't make him any less funny to look at mind you.  

As far as this held for the intimidation factor, it held in his favour seeing as no sane minded individual would willingly rest within smelling distance of the pirate.  Whatever mess of pre eaten material decorated the man, it was surely a formidable stench to behold.  

So I laughed some more, and this time out loud.  "Looking for something?"

Eyes turned to me, and the lovebirds approached.  Ana Maria held her dagger out and ready, sweet considerate soul that she is.  It was only proper, when planning to intimidate a person, to hold a weapon to intimidate with.  It was plain insulting not to do so.  

Sparrow came up real close, so close his nose nearly touched my own.  "You saw who took it?"

I laughed.  The man's stench nearly rivalled my own, but rest assured, my own stench was what won.  The pirate backed off just a smudge to avoid having to breath in what I expelled.  All the same, I did cough a bit for show.  I know how to play the game, don't ever say I don't.  "The stench coming off you is worser than me own!"  I exclaimed.  

"Then you'd best be telling us what we want to know quickly so we can be on our way." 

After a bit more of a show of coughing, I grinned and started the tale.  "There were three of them."  I stated proudly.  "Early this morning and still drunk from the night before.  Loud they was, and none too discrete in their business, bragging about who bought the pirate captain what, and who bought the most."

I couldn't help it, the grin took up half my face, such glee I took from telling this story.  "All the while they was congratulating each other on how well impressed this pirate captain must be with them, and too bad they lost track of the fellow sometime during the night.  Wouldn't it be even more impressive," I stopped and laughed in anticipation of the next part.  "Wouldn't this pirate just be tickled, if they was to commandeer a boat from harbour and sail out to meet this pirate captains ship?"  

I waited for this to sink in a bit, and I could see Sparrow catching on, but Ana Maria remained dim.  But the lass is just a woman after all, so I didn't think much less of her for the lack of wit.  I directed the next bit at her, hoping to help her out a bit.  "And what pirate ship do you be guessing they sailed out to meet?"  

To Sparrow, I offered a grin, then out of a sudden twinge of compassion held out an offer to swig from my own bottle.  He sat down beside me and accepted the drink.  

"What ship did they sail out to meet?"  Ana Maria asked suspiciously.  

Now here's where Sparrow actually managed to impress me.  He took a swallow from my own homemade brew, and didn't even choke when he answered her.  "The Black Pearl."

The girls voice practically squeaked as she yelled at Sparrow.  "You are telling me that these bloody pirates stole MY BOAT in an attempt to impress YOU?"

I laughed.  Oh, this was precious indeed.  Seeing _Captain_ Jack Sparrow pussy whipped and screeched at can raise my spirits any day.  But then yet again, the pirate surprised and impressed, and I've got to give credit where credit is due.  Rather than answer with the expected, _hush love, be calm, everything will be all right_, drivel I expected, he stood up and took another willing swallow of my brew before passing me back the bottle.  

"That's what it look's like luv.  And with our luck they'll be either sunk or half way to London by now.  So as it is, there's little use hanging around here waiting for what won't be coming back."  

And that was it.  I don't know where they went to after that, but I'll see them again before long.  Don't you doubt it. 

Now bugger off.  I've got better thing to do than it and tell stories all day.  

Unless you've got another drink for me that is.  Then I might be persuaded.  

_NOTE:_  Hey…  Thanks to amazing Julie for her amazing beta skills.. she is what keeps me chained to the computer turning out chapter after chapter.  And she is supplying me with the happy pills too, so blame her for the lack of angst… hard to be so angsty when you've got a good friend.  

Anyhow, I have some other interesting news to share!!!  Has it ever happened to you that you get an author alert and try to open a new chapter of an author you've been really looking forwards to seeing again and (gasp) chapter does not exist?  Frustrating isn't it?  Well, I found a trick.  Simply add a period.. yes a "." At the end of the url and enter, and voila!  There you go, chapter is there!!!!!  Hope you find this useful, I am sure I am not the only one to find this little trick, but I hadn't heard of it before.  How did I find it?  I don't know that either… it happened … like dodging baseballs aimed for the head when you never saw it coming, or falling down a flight of stairs and not getting hurt… it just happened.  And I'm thankful it did.  


	10. All she wants to do

**_Chapter ten, All she wants to do_**

She watched them from the shadows.  The pirate captain knew she was there, but he didn't know that she knew that he knew.  Therein lay her advantage.  

Now she just had to figure out how to get him alone.  She needed to wait.  That's what it came down to.  Patience.  Merrill sighed heavily and tried to remember why she needed him alone.  

She didn't want to kill him.  If the woman he was with got killed, there'd be no loss, and there'd be the added bonus of pissing off Sparrow more than he already was.  Most likely he was already plenty annoyed with the way things worked out earlier.  She wouldn't have needed to poison the girl if she'd just left them alone!  It was the woman's own fault.  But, Jack did find the antidote to the poison, and his woman lived, so no harm done right?  

Right.  She wanted Jack alive.  She would have given him the antidote, just like he did for the woman.  She didn't want him dead.  While researching the pirate she discovered many interesting things.  

You don't have to kill to get people to do what you want them to do.  Dead people don't do anything for you.  But if you make them believe you'll kill them if they don't do what you want, then things turn out so much easier. 

But what did she want Sparrow for?  The idea came to her back in the asylum where she hatched her ingenious plan.  It was in the asylum where she decided to poison him, though it was only later she decided to bring him back from the brink of death on her own terms.  Show him the power she possessed.  No one controlled Merrill Day's destiny anymore, no one but herself.  

That was why she had to wear blue.  Yep.  

But what did she want with Jack Sparrow?  She planned her moves right from the beginning; lay in wait for him to come to his favourite tavern, offer him the drink laced with laudanum, take him some place secure, kill him slowly.  

Killing him would indeed be lots of fun, but the problem with killing him was that then it would be over.  With ever fibre of her being she hated that man, she wanted him to suffer, she wanted him to feel what she felt.  If she killed him, her revenge would be complete.  But the problem with that was, revenge was what made her feel complete.  Without revenge, she'd have nothing.  Truly nothing.  

So she needed him to live.  She wanted to be like the villain in one of those dreadful novels.  She would haunt her prey, track his movements, make his life a living hell, and then disappear for a while.  She would lie in wait again, leave him guessing as to where she would pop up next, and when he least expected it, she would be there!  Yes.  

That was revenge.  That sounded like fun.  

Only, she never counted on it being so much work.  

She wondered if there'd be stories about her one-day?   To become a character in a great epic tales to be told around the campfire, and used to frighten small children.  A warning to others, don't piss off the wrong woman.  She liked that thought.  She would be a hero in her own right.  A hero for women to rally around, and an inspiration in times of hardship.  They would light candles and offer gifts in her memory.  

In her reverie she failed to notice the pirate and his woman keep walking down the street.  They were out of her sight now, and she had to run to catch up. This was not going to be a fun day.  

Just what was she hoping to accomplish anyhow?  

Did it really matter?  With that thought she stopped running and sat down on a near by barrel.  Never in any of those legends did a villain run.  A villain stalked.  There was no running involved in stalking.  It took careful, devious planning.  

That sounded like a better plan than running all over the place, she would plan instead.  Plan, and wait, and stalk.  The best place to do that, she decided, would be back at her shack with her poisons and potions.  Yes indeed, back at her shack she'd be able to plan out something truly devious.  Something worthy a villain her calibre.  

Authors note… I know it has been a while.  There was a slight breakdown of communication between my brain and myself, and hence … well hence the lack of update.  Hopefully now all the neurotic pathways (haha) have been re-established and things will return to normal!  


	11. Breaking Trust

**_Author note:_** yes, miraculously this chapter does contain Jack and Ana… and it is Jacks POV. We are nearing the home stretch here, just about done… one more chapter and _finis_! 

I owe a special thanks to Jackfan… incredible beta reader and friend. All the good parts are her doing. 

**_Now on with the show!_**

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**_Chapter Eleven, Breaking Trust_**

In the process of trying to appear as though he did not know they were being watched, Jack inadvertently lost sight of his stalker. It might seem strange that Jack would be more at ease being followed than not being followed, but it came down to this; so long as Merrill continued to followed them, then at least he knew what she was doing. Abruptly, he sat down and started making a show out of removing a stone from his boot, hoping that would lend enough time for the nutty girl to re-find them again. But, no luck.

He didn't feel at all comfortable with her roaming about on her own. All the same, however, he did not want to upset Ana. How, though, could he ditch… cough… how could he depart from Ana and take care of the Merrill problem without having Ana come with him? It might be a long shot, but he could only think of one person who might be willing to help him out with his plan. Graziella. 

Therefore, he needed a reason to lead them to Graziella. Something that he didn't necessarily want to do, but desperate circumstances led to desperate solutions. 

He fell. Hard. It wasn't fun; he turned his ankle to the side, spun awkwardly, and landed badly. Ana stopped and stared at him like he might have lost his mind and a part of him wondered if maybe she'd be right in thinking so. 

"Jack?"

This was dangerous territory he was treading here, and if he didn't pull it off right, there was no telling what might happen. The last time he dared fake an injury, (not entirely faked mind you but exaggerated at the right moment), when the truth came out that maybe he wasn't quite as injured as he made it seem, the consequences were severe. Ana did not take being lied to or tricked lightly, and since that incident, he considered himself on probation. 

Nothing was ever spoken of it now, of course, but he worried what her reaction might be if he lied to her like that again. 

But then, that time he'd exaggerated a life threatening injury, this time it was just a sprain. Completely different circumstances, right? As it turned out, he didn't have to fake the pain in his ankle so much after all. In his zeal to make the fall seem real, he did too good a job of making it authentic. 

Pain arced from his foot and up the side of his leg the moment he tried putting some pressure on it. He responded to the pain with a colourful string of curses. 

"Sit down before you fall down, and let me take a look at it." Ana ordered. There was no, 'oh did you hurt yourself?' or any other obvious questions like that. He followed orders and sat. 

Ana knelt down in front of him and pulled off his boot. It didn't take her long to find 'the spot', and the yelp Jack released at the finding of 'the spot', left no doubt as to whether or not she found it. "It's sprained."

"I could 'ave bloody well told ye that b'fore ye started poking 'round at it." He spoke through gritted teeth. Grabbing his boot, he pulled it on, noticing as he did so that it felt somewhat tighter than it had coming off. Great, just great. He pushed his self to his feet once more and applied but a tad bit of pressure. Seemed like he didn't have to worry about acting like it was real after all. Of all the bloody luck. 

Every step sent a bolt of pain lancing up his leg. Limping, he found, could be exhausting work. "Graziella's got a poultice for this sort of thing." 

Ana glared at him a moment. "It's that bad?" 

A gunshot wound to the chest normally would not be bad enough to seek out help from Graziella. But a plan was a plan, and he intended to see it through. "Damn it Ana, yes, 'ow m'I supposed to bloody get anywhere if I can't even walk on the damn thing?"

He waited for her agreement and as she moved to help support his weight, they started the long painful hobble back to the witch's house. 

The old woman already waited at the door for them when they arrived. She looked at Jack and sniggered. "'avin' problems?"

He muttered something intentionally unintelligible under his breath and entered. Everything looked much the same as it had earlier in the day when they'd left, but now a faintly rotten damp smell came from a bowl perched on the counter. 

"Sit there." She ordered. Jack sat. She took the bowl of whatever it was and sat on the floor at his feet, then pulled on his boot. The tug on his ankle as she wrenched it off made him grit his teeth. 

"How'd you know about his ankle?" Ana asked from across the room. 

"I know everything. Thought you'd 'ave figured that one out by now, girl." Using several long pieces of cloth, she carefully dipped them in the paste, making certain to get none on her hands, and then wrapped them tightly around his foot. "'Ow's 'at feel?"

"Cold."

"Good, then it's working. Don't move." She ordered and set about scraping the remaining paste into a jar. After about five minutes, she returned to him and examined his foot again. She plucked a pin from her hair and poked the bottom of his foot. "Feel that?"

"No." 

She smiled. "Good. You weren't supposed to."

"So you fixed the sprain?" Ana came up behind and stared at the wrappings around Jack's foot. It didn't look any better or less swollen than it had before. 

"No, not fixed. What you think I am any'ow?" The witched cackled. "You can bet that 'e won't be feelin' it for quite some time though." She removed the pieces of cloth from around Jack's ankle and then wiped the remainder of the paste from his skin. 

"Stand up, try it out."

Hesitantly Jack stood, and slowly placed some pressure on his ankle. It didn't hurt, but then, it didn't anything. He couldn't even feel his foot touching the floor. "This is supposed to be better?"

"It don't hurt. It's better." She puttered around the kitchen a bit. "At least you don't feel it now, wouldn't want to be you come tomorrow though."

"What's tomorrow?" 

"You'll see soon enough." She looked back at him with her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, get up off you're lazy arse and make us up some tea. You've got to practice using it b'fore going off." 

He took his time. By the way she acted, she wanted something more than for him just to make tea. Walking without feeling the floor under one foot took some getting used to. "It's not permanent?"

Lord, but that cackle could get on his nerves. She laughed for a full minute before calming down. "We'll see what ya think 'bout it come morn'n." Was all she would admit to. "How's that other problem of yours getting 'long?"

"Which one?" 

"The blue one. Though I hear the orange one is gone now too." 

Jack sighed. It would be nice for once, if she could ask a question for which she didn't already know the answer. "Both are missin'. Yes."

"Sett'n out to find it soon?"

"Soon." He glanced at Ana, and the witch followed his gaze. She nodded sagely. 

"I imagine you've go'a couple errands to run b'fore that comes 'bout? You're lass could wait 'ere till you're done."

"Hold that thought right there." Ana stood and approached them both. "I won't be waiting anywhere."

Offering nothing more than a placating smile, Graziella all but ignored Ana's statement. "'Ow's 'at tea com'n Jack? Or 'ave you forgotten 'ow t'make it?" 

Jack pulled a couple jars of herbs out from under the counter and measured out the proper amount. "If I've forgot, I don't have to make it?"

She walked behind him and swatted him across the back of the head with her fly swatter. "Don't be sassing me, boy. I know you remember?" 

Jack rolled his eyes and muttered. "A fact I can n'er escape."

"What kind of tea?" Ana asked. 

"Rum." Jack answered. Maybe not all his memories of Graziella could be called bad ones. This tea for instance, one wouldn't immediately think that mixing herbs and rum in hot water would taste anywhere nearly as interesting as it actually did. 

"You forgot this." Graziella sprinkled a small amount of crumbled brown powder into the mix. Jack didn't think much of it, after so many years he'd be more surprised to find he really did remember every ingredient. 

Ana brought out the cups and poured each of them a portion. 

"Bottoms up!" Graziella sang and watched Jack and Ana raise the cups to their lips. At the last second she nudged Jack in the side, and being none to steady yet on his foot, he crashed to the floor, spilling the tea in the process. 

"What t'hell?" He sat up, pushed himself back onto his feet and glared at Graziella. She smiled back at him, and then looked pointedly at Ana. 

He watched Ana lower the cup from her lips after having taken a sip. "What?"

The truth hit him like a physical blow, and he felt his stomach turn. "Damn it!" He raced around the counter, as fast as he could manage at least, and grabbed Ana's arm. 

"Sit down." 

She looked confused, and then she blinked heavily. As he pulled her towards a chair, realization dawned. "Ya… ya.. drugged it."

The blow hit him close to the ear, and set his head ringing. He deserved it. "I'm sorry." He stepped closer and tried to make her sit down before the drug could take its full effect. Even as he gently lowered her down, he turned back to Graziella. 

"What was it? What did ya give her?"

The old woman laughed. "It's what you wanted, is it not?"

Stalking quickly towards Graziella he stopped inches from her face and glared down at her. "NO. WHAT THE HELL DID YOU PUT IN THE DRINK?" 

The threat in his voice and his proximity didn't disturb her one bit. "Just a pinch to make her sleepy is all. A few hours and she'll be right as rain."

Jack turned back to Ana and flinched back from the anger burning in her eyes. "Ya bastard." She whispered. "Ya filthy, stinking, son of a flea bitten bitch. Ya drugged me." 

He nodded slowly. What use would it be to deny the accusation? Did he not use deception in getting her here? Hadn't he planned on leaving her behind? Yes, and yes, but he certainly did not intend this. "You'll be safe here." He assured her. 

The comment didn't calm her any and she spat in his face. She was close to passing out now, and Jack couldn't think of anything more to say. He stood up and faced Graziella. "Ya know what ye've done, don't you?"

She nodded and turned to clean up the spilt tea on the floor. "Yer own fears are 'nough to drive the girl away. If ya deserved her trust, I'd 'ave not been able to break it."

It didn't matter anymore. Jack slammed the door on his way out; it was now time to find and deal with Merrill. 

**final note: please review?**


	12. Conclusions and Confusions

**_Chapter Twelve, the Asylum_**

"She's your niece you say?"

Jack leaned back against the wall and offered an apologetic grin.  "By marriage, of course."  He amended.  "Tragic story."  

The asylum guard raised his eyebrows, waiting to hear more.  

"Tragic, yes.  My dear, dead, sister took care of the girl.  Now she's on her own, the brain sickness has only gotten worse."  Jack tried to make a sorrowful expression, but wasn't sure how genuine it came across.

"How'd she die?"

"My sister?"  Jack raised his eyes to heaven.  "Poor soul got herself trampled by a mule."  

"A mule?"

"Yes, trampled by it."  He nodded.  "While offering charity to the orphans.  Poor children, don't know if they'll ever recover from seeing her stomped to bits right in front of them, such as it was."

"Tragic, yes."  The man agreed.  "And you've got the coin to see the lass taken care of?"

"I have.  Taken care of, and watched to ensure her continued care.  The girl has a tendency to wander, if you get my meaning."

"I am not your bloody niece and my mother was not trampled by a mule!"  Merrill screeched.  "This man is a pirate!  He kidnapped me!"

Jack tightened his hold on her arm.  Of course catching her was the easy part, keeping her from yelling his bloody ear off now was somewhat more difficult.  

_"I knew you'd come find me."  Merrill boasted as she watched Jack walk up the path to her shack.   _

"You did?  So tell me, what's to happen next?"

In her smile, he caught a hint of her former beauty shining through, but it was ruined seconds later with a sneer twisting her lip into an ugly grin.  "I have a plan."

"Care to share it?"  He stooped several yards from her, expecting a trap.

"I will go down in history as the nemesis'ess of Jack Sparrow."

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow."  He corrected automatically.  "And what makes you think history'll be doing 'at?"

"I'll follow you every where you go, every time you close your eyes, I'll be the one you see lurking in the shadows!"

"In t' shadows when I close my eyes, eh?  Ye plan to write this 'istory yer'self then?  What even makes ye think I'd be important 'nough for anyone t' care 'bout what nemesis I've got or not?"  

She seemed to think that through for a moment.  "Aren't you famous?  But I've read about you, I researched you."

"Really?  Ye read 'bout me?  In actual books ye mean?"  If he were being written about he ought to know what was being said, right?  "What'd they say?"

Cocking her head to the side, Merrill thought about that for a minute.  "You're a pirate."

"Yeah, we know 'bout 'at one.  What else?"

"You've got a tattoo of a bird on your arm."  She held up her own arm for example.  "And a pirate brand!"

"Knew that one too."  He shifted his weight to one side, looking a little bored.  Was that it?  Did they really write a book on just how he looked?  Who would read something like that anyhow, and whom did he know, that knew his self so well, that he'd be able to write a book about how he looked?  Or could it be written by a woman?  That'd be better, but then, what woman and why?  "Ye got anything I don't know?"

Merrill frowned.  "But I don't know what you don't know.  If I knew, then I'd know, wouldn't I?"  They both considered that for a minute.  "You don't kill if you don't got to!"  She blurted out suddenly.

"Says that, does it?"  A raspy steel sound hissed through the air as he drew his sword from his scabbard.  "That fact must make ye feel quite confident when I'm holding one of these to your person then."

"Your pistol wasn't loaded."

"Good thing then that this don't need to be loaded.  Aint it?"  He took a step towards her and held the tip of it to her chest, and she remained absolutely still.  

She stared down at the tip of his blade touching her shirt, making her look cross eyed from Jacks point of view.  "I'd not have killed you.  I just- I'm a villain, it's what I'm supposed to do."  

Looking at her now, she didn't look like much of a threat.  "Ye nearly killed my first mate.  That's reason enough to end yer life."  He stepped closer yet, letting the point press a bit harder into her skin.  "What guarantee 'ave I got that ye won't do something like that again?"  He asked her.    

"Kill me."  She said softly.  There were tears welling up in her eyes now.  "Look at what you've reduced me to, I'm nothing!  Do it, KILL ME."

"If you insist."  Jack stepped to the side slightly, ready to plunge the polished steel through her skin and into her chest.   However, at the last moment he raised the tip, and rather than kill her, he brought the handle of the sword down across the back of her skull.  

"But killin ye'd be too easy, wouldn't it?"  He said softly to his self.  

….

_Which brought him to the point of having hauled the girls' unconscious self all the way from her shack on the cliffs, to the asylum on the other side of town_.  It felt like a much longer distance when carrying dead weight.  And now, after all the trouble he went through getting her there, she went and regained consciousness just in time to greet her new caregivers.  

"He's Jack Sparrow, the pirate!"  She bellowed.

Jack laughed.  "And just yesterday I was the King of Spain.  The girl's delusional." 

"What's a Jack Sparrow?"

Both Jack and Merrill glared at the asylum guard for a moment.  "Don't get out much, do ya mate?"  Jack asked him.  Receiving no response, he sighed dramatically and explained.  "Jack Sparrow happens to be the captain of the Black Pearl."

"Ya mean Captain Barbossa's ship?"  

"No."  Jack corrected slowly.  "I mean Captain Jack Sparrow's ship."  

"An you're Jack Sparrow?"

"_Captain_ Jack Sparrow.  

The guard frowned.  "You're Captain Jack Sparrow?"  He repeated.  

"Exactly!"  Jack exclaimed before he could stop himself.  

Merrill nodded frantically, "He is!"

"No, wait.  I'm not."  Jack insisted.  "My niece is confused."  He pushed her in the direction go the guard, and took several lengthy steps back towards the exit.  "Take care of her, and ye'll see yer cash.  Lose her, and ye'll see the bottom of Davy Jones locker, savvy?"

The guard took a firm hold of Merrill's arm and nodded.  "Yeah, I savvy." 

Come nightfall, with his quest complete, Jack contemplated what to do next.  He'd left the asylum in somewhat of a hurry after depositing Merrill there.  He didn't really expect the attendants to act on any of the accusations she hurled in his direction, but it was never a bad idea to make a hasty exit when some one starts accusing you of being a very much wanted (complete with sizable bounty) pirate.   

But what now?  He could go back to Graziella's and risk the wrath of Ana.  Or he could head to the Faithful Bride and drink up a bit of rum.  He knew he'd have to face Ana sooner or later, but just as soon prefer to have a good amount of alcohol in him first.  

Or rather, he hoped he'd get a chance to face Ana sooner or later.  What would he do if he went back to Graziella's and Ana was not there?  Moreover, what was worse, fearing she'd be gone, or finding out she was?  

Thinking those thoughts led him right to the old witch's doorstep and his heart raced at the prospect of finding out one way or the other.  Possibilities raced through his mind, and they consisted of things like:

_He pushed open the door, Ana stood across from him holding a pistol.  She fired.  The end.  _

Or

_He pushed open the door, Ana stood across from him, waiting with arms open and ready to forgive_.  

Nice thought, but unlikely.  

Or

_He pushed the door open, Graziella stood across from him, smirking.  "She's gone Jack.  Said if she never sees you again it'd be too soon_."  

Slowly, he pushed open the door.  

The room appeared dark, and quiet.  Graziella sat in a rocking chair by the window and looked up at him.  She did not smile, smirk, or cackle.  "She's gone."  She said quietly.  "Walked out a couple 'ours back without a word of explanation."  

Jack stepped inside and closed the door behind him.  "She said nothing?"  A quiet Ana disturbed him infinitely more than a ranting and raving Ana.  

"Not'ing."  The old woman slowly pushed herself to her feet.  This late in the day, all the aches and pains coming with age were harder to hide behind a mask of irritability.  "Better 'is way, if ye ask me."

"An' ye weren't asked."  Jack reminded her.  

She stepped up close to him and took his hand in her own.  Though she possessed strength beyond her years, right now Jack could see plainly how frail and old she was becoming.  The skin of her hands felt as thin as weathered paper, and blue veins stood out clearly.  "It'd 'ave 'appened soon 'nough even without my help.  Tis' 'ard to keep 'em round when 'ey don't trust ya."  She patted his hand then let him go.   

The only place left to him was the Faithful Bride.  But as he entered the tavern, who should he see?  None other than Ana Maria sat comfortably at a table close to the bar, and there were three men crowded close around her.  Jack made a point of walking directly past her table on the way to order a drink.  He bought two.  He pushed through the men crowded around her and took the seat closest.  He pushed one of the drinks in her direction.  

She wrapped her hand around the glass and stared at the drink for a moment, then took a sip and placed it back down on the table in front of her. 

"I took care of the Merrill problem.  She's now got a nice new home in the Tortuga Asylum."  Seeing no response from her, he decided to continue.  "I thought ye left."  Jack stated.  

"I left Graziella's."  She pointedly ignored the other men crowded around her who were now paying close attention to the conversation.  "Ya thought it was you I left."

"Wouldn't blame ya if ye did."

"Ya bloody bastard."  She cursed softly.  "After all we've been through, ya think I'd leave?"

One of the entourage stepped forward and placed a possessive hand on Ana Maria's shoulder.  "Need him taken care of?"  He made a cutting motion with his other hand across his throat to illustrate the offer.  

Ana sighed.  "No.  However, you could take care of yer own self somewhere else."

The hand on her shoulder tightened until she winced involuntarily from the pressure.  In response, Ana twisted slightly to the right, and swung her arm low between the goon's legs.  The tavern's lantern light glinted off the steel blade she held firmly in her fist.

"I think that means ye'd best be lettin' er go mate."  Jack grinned.  

The goon did indeed let her go.  The look he gave Jack could have froze hell, but he took a step back, away from the knife, and the rest of Ana's temporary admirer's quickly followed suit.  

That left Ana and Jack alone with each other.  

"So, ya thought I'd left ya."  Ana repeated her earlier sentence, but with somewhat less vigour.  

"You were none too pleased when I left ye."

"And I'm still none to pleased with ya, Jack."  She finished her glass, and pushed it back towards him as a hint to get her some more.  

Realising this was all part of the making-up ritual hoop jumping he'd have to go through to win back her good graces, Jack complied and bought her another glass.  

With the refilled glass in her hand, Ana continued as though there'd been no interruption.  "I promised I'd stick with ya Jack.  I'll not break from that."  

"Then I release ye from that promise if that's all that's keepin' ye."  He winced at his own words and waited for her to get up take his offer.  

However, she only sighed.  "If yer thinkin' that's all that's holdin' me to ya, maybe it'd be best if I did leave."  

"M'ybe it would."

Again, he waited for her to get up and walk out, but she didn't.  "T'hell wit'ya!"  She stood up and stared at him, hands balled into fists at her sides.  "An' if 'ats what ya want'a think we are about.  So be it."  

Not quite sure what she was about to do next, Jack tensed.  This was the Ana Maria he recognised and could deal with.  This was the fire in her he missed since the trouble with Granger.  Though he might not be able to predict her next move, at least he knew it would be honest.  

Landing on the floor with an aching jaw showed him just how honest she was willing to get.  Good.  He picked his self off the floor to face her, but she wasn't quite done yet.  She grabbed his shirt at the shoulder and pushed him back against the table hard enough he felt the hard edge of the wood bite into his spine.  Still, this could be considered progress compared to their conversation earlier and he offered no resistance, yet.    

"Ya left me first."  She leaned in close and ground out the words in a quite rage.  "What if something had happened to ya?  Ya 'ad no right to go off 'n deal with Merrill on yer own."

"I'm not going to break."  Jack answered just as quietly.  "All 'ese weeks y'been hovering over me like somet'in that's about t'fall apart."  Now he pushed her back and spun her around so that she was the one pinned against the table, his hands firmly gripping her arms just in case she might try to attack him again.  "Vacation was nice, but it's 'bout time we go back t'doin what we do best.  Don't ye think?"

"Vacation?" Ana replied. "An' just 'ow do you expect t'do that?  We've no boat remember."

The confrontation seemed to be drawing attention from around the tavern.  Having been somewhat of an abnormally quiet night so far, most of the patrons were just itching for some flesh to sink their fists into.  Moreover, what better reason could there be than coming to the defence of a damsel in distress?  

And what better bloke to start it, than the one already previously spurned and ridiculed by the very man now manhandling the woman he'd tried to earlier defend?

"Jack," Ana whispered in a distinctly different tone of voice.  

He could see no reason for her to suddenly sound worried.  Did she actually think he might hurt her?  "What?"

"Duck!"

He moved just in time to see the fist heading towards his face.

_Authors note:  I know I said this would be the last chapter… but it's not.  Obviously.  There is one more.  Honest.  _

_And thanks to Jackfan2 (the amazing beta), and Cal and Kingleby – I couldn't have wished for better readers that you!  Thanks guys!!!!! _


	13. happily ever after, the end

**_Chapter 13, Stay_**

Having fought together numerous times before, Jack reacted to the warning without a second's hesitation and ducked.  In doing so, the fist meant for his head caught only his hat, sending it flying.  In response, Ana sent a fist flying towards the face of the would-be attacker.  

She missed as the man leaned backward to dodge, but Jack did not.  Still low to the ground and facing the wrong direction, Jack jabbed his elbow back and connected solidly with the attacker's gut.  Next the pirate stood as he spun and connected his knee to the now doubled over attacker's nose, snapping his head back.

This signalled the beginning of what was to become the evening's entertainment.  

Another man holding a chair ran forwards and swung it at Jack's back, connecting with the pirates back the chair shattered, sending pieces of wood everywhere. The pirate, in turn, swiped out his foot and caught his assailant off balance, sending him crashing to the ground moments later.  Another man grabbed Ana's arm, dragging her to the side, and for his trouble, he received a glass smashed in his face.

The other patrons of the tavern, not wanting to miss the fun, quickly chose a side and joined the melee.  

Apparently, the _against-Jack_ side looked like more fun, and the bulk of the tavern zeroed in on the goal of beating the pirate to a pulp.  Ana fought at his side, and together they managed to fend off the worst of it until being backed up in the far corner.  Jack ducked as a bottle smashed into the wall behind him.  

No one seemed to notice or care that the woman they were supposedly protecting from the evil pirate, fought against her numerous defenders.  

It had been a good fight, but the _for-Jack_ side was steadily dwindling and the outcome wasn't looking good.  As the crowd steadily pushed forwards, there was nowhere left for the pirates to retreat.  Jack's priority shifted to moving the focus of the fight away from Ana.  Losing the fight wasn't his first choice of outcomes, but he knew, as he'd been in this kind of situation before, it'd be no worse than-

That thought ended abruptly as a fist smashed Jack squarely in the face.  Little pinpricks of light danced before his eyes as he shook his head to clear them.  

Knowing he'd lose eventually didn't mean he'd stop fighting now, in fact, it only meant he'd fight all the harder.  Jack pushed away from the wall and dove forwards into the mass and- another fist on its way towards Jack's face suddenly stopped and flew backwards.  

That was odd.  

"Knew we'd find you mixed in trouble Cap'n."  

Gibbs!  Never did the man's voice sound sweater than it did now, and Jack couldn't suppress a relieved grin.  "Funny 'ol world, innit?"  Now that he looked, he could see other crewmembers from the Black Pearl joining the fight too.  So maybe the _for-Jack_ side might have more a chance than he'd originally thought.

"Uh, Cap'n see'n as you an' Ana have done your part, you and the lass may want t' make for the longboat at the dock.  Let us finish this, been real boring with ye gone.  We'll be there shortly."  Gibbs said, and then promptly received a clod on the top of his head.  Turning, unfazed by the blow, Gibbs picked the attacker up by his shirt and threw him backwards, where the impact of his body obliterated a table.

With the tide of the fight turning, the prospect of missing out on the rest of brawl didn't look so appealing.  Besides, Jack still had a hat to reclaim, didn't he?  There they stood, Captain and First Mate, bruised and bloodied, and looking on at the fight continuing around them with an appreciative gaze.  They wouldn't miss the end of this fight for all the gold in the Spanish armada.

Ah, but it was good to be back in the thick of things again.  

~

"Ya didn 'ave t'stay for the end of it Cap'n.  We'd 'ave done fine on our own."  Gibbs muttered again on their way to the docks.  

Aye, but I seem to recall my orders were to take The Pearl to Perry's Cove for repairs, yet here ya'be in Tortuga. Mind explain'n that one t'me?"  Jack grumbled.  In truth, it was getting hard to hide his pleasure of how things did turn out.  

"The appearance of yer orange boat tipped us off to trouble brewin'."  Gibbs looked to Ana, because clearly everyone knew the boat had been her scheme.  "When she came up on us and we saw she lacked her rightful owners, we figured it'd be a good idea t'investigate."  

"What'd you do with the thieves?"  Ana asked.  

"Treadin' water last I saw of 'em."  Gibbs responded proudly, and Ana seemed content with that.  

Upon reaching the docks a familiarly scornful chortle greeted them.  The old man sat in the exact same spot he'd been in before, pointing at Jack while chuckling merrily.  

"I knew I'd be seeing the likes of you again!"  The old man hollered as he watched the pirate and his crew approach.

Jack tipped his hat in salute to the old bastard before he and his little party of pirates climbed into the long boat and started back towards the Black Pearl.  Nearing his ship, the familiar sounds of the creaks and sails were music to Jack's ears.  Vacations be damned, much as he appreciated the alone time with Ana, there was nothing better than coming home to his own ship.  

By the time they were on board the Pearl, all the bruises and cuts that seemed nothing but trifles earlier, were beginning to be felt.  After a brief, "Glad t'ave ya back, Cap'n." From the crew, Jack retreated to his cabin.  

With Ana following close behind.  

He considered winning one battle out of two so far to be a good sign.  This coming confrontation with Ana Maria would be a battle unto it's self, and would prove a much harder victory to come by.  Ana Maria might be on board the Pearl now, but by no means did he fool himself into believing this was how things would remain.  Perhaps that would be for the best.

"You're bleedin."  She stomped to a nearby cabinet and withdrew a bottle of rum and clean white cloths, as she had done so many times in the past. She spilled the contents of the rum on one of the cloths.

"An so'r you."  Jack answered.  He stepped up close to her and gently ran a finger along a bruise starting to form on her cheek.  "What're yer plans now?"

That's up t'you." She said as she handed him the rum soaked cloth. 

He sat down at the table and gingerly dabbing the cloth to his bloodied lip.  "An' that just brings us to t'same point we were at b'fore." He winced as the cloth barely touched his lip.

"Oh here, let me." She sighed in exasperation and stepped up to take the cloth from him.

"Y'don't trust me Ana, how long b'fore I drive ye off again?" Wincing as the rum stung his cut. 

"I do trust you.  I'd not sail with a Cap'n I don't trust."

"As a captain."  He repeated.  "But how'bout otherwise?"

"You mean do I trust you 'em other times I'm under ya."  She stated bluntly.

Wincing at the crass statement, Jack moved on..."I drugged yer tea."

"I been thinkin' on that.  The tea was Graziella's idea, not yours.  The mix was hers, not yours.  So no, I don't think ye meant to drug me, but that don't mean I'm fool enough not to know you planed on ditching me while you chased down Merrill."  She paused a moment to let that sink in properly, just so he'd know he'd not be getting away with anything.  

"And yes, I'm angry with you about that."  She glared at him a moment before her eyes softened.  "But, I trust you.  I trust ya t'do what ya think to be best.  I trust ya to do good by your ship, and by me.  What I don't trust, is fer ya t'be good to your self.  That's why I worry Jack."  As he sat there, she stepped forward to stand between his knees and placed one hand on his shoulder, the other on his face.  "I promised ya I'd stay.  But I'd break that promise without hesitation if it were only an obligation I felt."

Jack nodded and asked "And yer feeln's now?"

She shook her head, no.  "It's your turn t'be honest.  Tell me you want me to stay, and  I will. Your turn now to trust me"

"Stay."  He said in a choked whisper as he pulled her down to him and gently enveloped her in a kiss.  

_And they lived happily ever after, the end!_

_For more happily ever afters, please check out ichamoo's stories at_

Ichamoo is actually where the stories that are co authored by Jackfan2 and myself find a warm fluffy home.

Great thanks to Jackfan2 for awesome help in betaing my story!!!

And another thank you to my reviewers, getting feedback is what keeps me inspired to write more. 


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